


eMbrace

by 8ucky8arnes



Series: fragMents [17]
Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Season 2 spoilers, The Reunion Thunderblink Deserved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 17:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17965208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ucky8arnes/pseuds/8ucky8arnes
Summary: She smelled of ash and smoke, his mind feeding him images fiery skies and charred buildings, but that didn’t matter at that moment. She was here. She was real, a body made of flesh and bone instead of echoes.“I thought…” his voice cracked as his arms tightened around her, “I thought you were gone.”





	eMbrace

**Author's Note:**

> So that finale was insane and John's fight scene was just...wow. As for the ending of it though, I've decided to fix it and write the reunion that should've happened. So here you go! Let me know what you guys think!

The second he felt it, he was already on his feet.

He felt no pain as he ran out into the scrapyard, the others clambering after him.

The brilliant light of the flickering portals reflecting off the old metal of the scrapyard was almost too bright for his sensitive eyes. But he couldn’t look away as the smaller portals opened disappeared only to be replaced by a larger one.

Then she stepped out and he knew he’d never look away again.

_Gods…_

He could faintly hear the gasps and pounding hearts behind him, but he was frozen.

She stood feet from him, so vibrant and beautiful and _alive_.

_Clarice was alive._

“Clarice?”

She turned, her serious countenance softening and brightening as she smiled at him. The shards of glass (light? energy?) vanished from her hands as she took a hesitant step toward him with shining eyes, “John…”

Like the spell had been broken, he moved, pulling her into his embrace.

A shudder went through her as she choked out a sob, arms winding around his neck.

He closed his eyes, his cheek pressed to her hair and _breathed_ for the first time in days. Her heartbeat was strong and steady, the sound like a balm to ringing ears still recovering from the barrage of gunfire and to the tattered remnants of his soul…

She smelled of ash and smoke, his mind feeding him images fiery skies and charred buildings, but that didn’t matter at that moment. She was here. She was real, a body made of flesh and bone instead of echoes.

“I thought…” his voice cracked as his arms tightened around her, “I thought you were gone.”

Clarice pulled back, taking his face in her trembling hands. Her eyes were drinking him in, her fingers running along the lines of his face and brushing away his tears. Her chin wobbled as the tears finally spilled down her face, “It’s been so long...” she swallowed, staring at him like _he_ was the one back from the dead, “ _God_ , I’ve missed you...so much.”

Then they were kissing, the tangled knot of grief and guilt in his chest unraveling as her lips parted under his and one hand slid into her hair. All the static in his head vanished, all the noise and the flashes replaced by the sound of her breathing, the faint sensation of her silken hair through his fingers, the pressure of her hands on his neck, the smell of her skin...

She was the first to pull away, breathing ragged and face flushed.

_So beautiful..._

He ran his thumb over her marks. This close, he could see new lines of worry on her face and pale scars that hadn’t been there before...There was an air around her, too, one he knew all too well. The air of someone who’d had done and seen things that would never- could never- be voiced aloud and his heart ached for an entirely new reason.

He’d never wanted her to bear that burden alone.

He’d never wanted to see his shadows in her eyes.

“John?” she frowned, “What is it?”

He smiled, brushing her hair behind a pointed ear, “I can’t just look at you?”

It was clear she could see through the question, but she just leaned into his touch.

There were so many things he wanted to say then, so many apologies he wanted to make, but all the words were suddenly trapped in his throat. He rested his forehead against hers instead and closed his eyes, knowing they weren’t needed anyway.

She already knew.

Marcos cleared his throat.

Clarice stepped away with a wet laugh as she wiped her face, finally looking at all the others that had followed him. She was looking at them all with a mix of happiness and longing, the moment broken as Lauren ran forward.

John stepped aside as the girl plowed into Clarice, nearly knocking her off her feet.

She let out a surprised laugh, “Good to see you too, kid.”

He watched as she greeted them all, pulling a reluctant Andy into a hug and shaking Esme’s hand and embracing Lorna like they hadn’t been on the opposite sides of a civil war and he still couldn’t believe she was really back. That she was here.

The numbness of her return was fading, his chest and back throbbing from the worst of the injuries that hadn’t completely healed yet. He clenched his jaw as the world tilted, John walking stiffly over to one of the old rusty car frames before anyone saw him sway, but the slow deliberate change of position hadn’t been missed by Caitlyn.

She moved over to him silently with a worried frown.

He shook his head.

But she just came closer, “You should be sitting down, John. You’re still healing.”

He thought about saying he was fine, but one look at the woman’s face and he didn’t have the heart to turn her away again. He’d heard Lauren and Andy crying through the walls as they mourned their father, heard her choked screams as she woke up screaming her husband’s name in the middle of the night.

He knew there was nothing he could say that would ease that loss, that would fill the space Reed had been ripped violently from…nothing really would, but he could give her something to do, someone to take care of, even if a large part of him disliked being that person… John nodded. “Okay.”

She managed a small smile, “You’re being unusually cooperative.”

He huffed out a breath, “I’ve learned it’s better not to argue with you.”

“You need any help?”

He let out a long breath as he straightened, “No, I’m good. I’ll just-” He trailed off when Clarice approached them, his senses painting a blurry picture of her concerned expression and the questioning look she gave Caitlyn. John turned, wanting to actually _see_ her with his eyes, his muscles spasming at the sudden movement.

“Marcos told me of the little stunt you pulled.” She ran an eye over him, eyebrows knitting together as she reached out to lift up the hem of his shirt to reveal the white bandages hidden underneath. “Were you _trying_ to get yourself killed?”

He opened his mouth.

“Don’t answer that.” There was a flash of light, a clear glassy shard appearing in her hand. “Are the apartments still good or…?”

“I can walk back to the building, Clarice.” He smiled, “It’s just right there.”

She twirled the shard between her fingers with a teasing pout, “You don’t want my help?”

“I don’t need a portal,” he reached up, thumb running over her cheek, “just you.”

“Aw, you’re sweet,” the light flickered out in her hand before she placed it over his and gave him a quick kiss. She stepped back with a smile as he tried to chase her mouth, “but I’m still mad at you.”

He brushed his lips over her knuckles in response.

She cleared her throat, tugging at his hand, “Come on then, let’s go.”

John was surprised to find the others, including Caitlyn, had drifted off to give them space even though he knew they probably had about a million questions for Clarice. He guided them over to one of the mattresses they managed to scrounge from the apartment tucked into a corner, away from prying eyes.

She dug through the already waiting first aid kit, “Sit.”

He shrugged out of his jacket, lifting his arms as she pulled off his shirt.

Clarice cut away the gauze and peeled away the bandages, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of the bruises and half-healed bullet wounds littering his back and chest. Her fingers hovered over a cluster of them over his heart, “Jesus, John…”

He waited for her to get mad at him for risking his life, for throwing himself into yet another hopeless situation with no regard for his own life, but he was surprised when she only let out a long ragged breath and continued to reapply the bandages and gauze.  

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she finally finished, “How long has it been?”

“About two weeks.”

She let out a choked sound and tensed, not looking at him.

“Clarice?” He lifted her face, her tears sending another pang through him, “What is it?”

Something shattered in those brilliant green eyes, Clarice throwing herself in his arms with a broken sob. She buried her face into his neck, her entire body shuddering as he pulled her in without a word.

He kissed her hair, another round of fire and ash and burnt bodies flashing through his mind complete with the sight of Clarice throwing spears of light into the shadows as rage burned in her teary eyes as she screamed…

His heart gave another violent lurch and he tightened his hold on her, ignoring the full body ache as he rocked her back and forth, murmuring reassurance in a tongue he hadn’t spoken since he’d left the reservation. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Where I was…what I need to show you all, it’s…it’s horrible.” She pulled in a shaky breath, “I was there, God it felt like an eternity. I tried to get back and at first, I couldn’t do that. So I tried to find someone… _anyone_ , but you were all gone. Lorna and Marcos and Erg and the Struckers and…” she swallowed, pulling back to take his face in her hands, “and _you._ There was no one left. I was all alone.”

His fingers curled lightly around her arm. “How…how long were you there?”

“Over a year.”

_Gods…_ He held her gaze for only a split second before drawing her into a kiss, channeling everything he couldn’t say; all the grief and the guilt and the pain and the apologies and the love… He poured everything he was into it, grounding her to him, to the now, and reassuring himself at the same time.

 “I love you, Clarice.” He murmured against her lips, “I love you so much.”

The light returned to her expression as she brushed a thumb over his mouth. Her eyes ran over every line of his face, her lips curling into a beautiful smile he’d never thought he’d seen again. “I love you too. I never stopped.”

He knew the news she carried would bring everything crashing down again, would bring another enemy, another fight, another war…but that could all wait for just a little bit longer. He wanted to _hold_ her, kiss her, _be_ with her…and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Everything else, in that moment, would just have to wait.

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be the last piece of this series for now, but will still be updating the new AU and Stars on Our Knuckles.


End file.
